


Uncharted Territories

by Pouncer



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bondage, Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-23
Updated: 2006-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-04 03:45:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pouncer/pseuds/Pouncer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The word, the tone, commands obedience and Rodney is startled at the thrill that zings through him. Spoilers through 2.05 Condemned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncharted Territories

"Why were you like that?" Frantic whisper against barely lit skin, damp and pale and it looks so _hungry_ for Rodney's mouth.

John twists and Rodney is suddenly on his back, wrists held captive in one strong hand, arms stretched above his head. John lips at the inside of Rodney's elbow and Rodney can feel his spine arch, his eyes roll back underneath fluttering lids.

"Why was I like what, Rodney?" John's voice is low and almost feral, and his teeth nip at tendons in Rodney's neck.

Coherent thought is a struggle, but this is _important_. "On the island. With me."

Now John's tongue laves the spot where collarbone turns into shoulder and his body settles atop Rodney, a hot weight pressing him deeper into the covers. They shouldn't do this here, in John's quarters, not while the rest of Atlantis travels from labs to mess hall to quarters in a clamorous end-of-day rush. Too many people could see them entering or leaving together. There could be talk.

The post-mission briefing and the medical examination had lasted forever and John had kept looking at Rodney with hot eyes and a frighteningly still expression on his face.

Rodney had to follow when John left the infirmary.

John still hasn't answered his question, so Rodney elaborates. "The jumper was so damaged. I really didn't think I could fix it. And you were –" his search for words other than _mean_ is forgotten when John moves his attention to Rodney's nipples, pinching one with his free hand, licking at the other. "_Oh._" Dangerously close to a moan, but it feels so good that Rodney can't think. He has to touch John, has to do something to distract himself from this torrent of sensation.

He pulls, brings up a knee to rest one foot flat on the bed, caressing John's hip with his leg, and frees one hand. John's hair is soft, belying its spiky appearance. So many contradictions reside behind that sometimes-goofy face.

John is not in the mood to play tonight, not in the mood for the soft and laughter-filled sex they share more often than not. He snarls and jerks Rodney's hand from his hair. "No." The word, the tone, commands obedience and Rodney is startled at the thrill that zings through him.

He doesn't know what to do. Meets John's glare and tries to protest but John overrides that with steady pressure on muscle and bone until Rodney is once again splayed beneath him. "Stay," John orders.

Too many orders. "No," Rodney says, but his struggles are futile. "John," he starts and John makes some decision, reaches out to rummage in his nightstand drawer. The straps are leather; Rodney has no idea where John got them and his wrists are already bruised from where the prisoners tied him on the island. Rodney bucks harder, approaching desperate. John knows what he's doing, though, uses his legs and weight and leverage to advantage. Regardless of objection Rodney's hands are bound above him, lashed to the bedframe.

"Now," John murmurs and his smile is otherworldly. "We can take our time."

Rodney expects more harshness, tenses to resist, but John uses gentleness to disarm him. Soft, savoring kisses, the merest brush of fingers over delicate places. John caresses Rodney's ankle, nibbles at the inside of a thigh, and all Rodney can do is moan. Moan and sink deeper into this place where thought fractures into shards and touch is paramount.

 

* * * 

_Rodney's intellect was the only thing he had on the island. His only asset. The collar around his neck choked him of all else. _

He believed he was going to die. That his failure was going to doom Sheppard and Teyla and Ronon.

 

* * * 

A break in the overwhelming flood of touch and Rodney marshals his thoughts. He has a question and it has to be answered. His arms ache a little, along his triceps, from the stretch imposed by his bonds. Rodney licks dry lips and says, "What was wrong, back on the island? Why were you like that?"

They've been through so much together and never before has Rodney felt John's displeasure aimed at him like that.

A line of fire traces up Rodney's instep – John's finger finding nerves and it feels so good that Rodney closes his eyes to revel in it. John pulls Rodney's leg to the side, opening access to his cock and balls and ass even more.

Rodney knows John doesn't have to explain anything right now, with Rodney tied up and helpless, so it's a surprise to hear him answer, low and distracted.

"It was a bad situation, tactically." John's palm flirts with Rodney's hips and all Rodney wants is to have his dick touched but no, John detours to his ribs. "Prisoners everywhere, we were on foot, no DHD."

Rodney's eyes slit open and he tries to read John's expression. John thwarts him, dips down and begins gnawing a gentle line up Rodney's sternum.

"Yes?" Rodney says when he can smooth his breathing.

John stops touching him. Rodney didn't want John to stop touching him. John pulls back and he's not with Rodney any longer.

"I saw guys like Torrell in Afghanistan." John never talks about Afghanistan. "Warlords. They were --"

Rodney whimpers, deliberately.

"Arbitrary," John finishes, and he's back. He even smiles at Rodney and the gleam in his eyes is dangerous.

"Arbitrary can be good," Rodney says, almost gasps, because he wants to go back to the touching.

"It can," John agrees.

 

* * * 

_Ordered to do the impossible or his team would die. It would be Rodney's fault, his error, his guilt pressing down. _

 

* * * 

John moves over top of Rodney, presses him down into the bed, twists their legs together in some impossible pretzel shape, and Rodney wants more. He bucks his hips upwards, trying for more friction, but John laughs low and _evil_ and won't let Rodney win.

"No," John tells Rodney, and his weight is gone and Rodney opens his eyes to find John looking down at him with amusement written on his face. He's off to Rodney's side now and that's just wrong.

"John," Rodney says, and a palm covers his mouth. John leans down and bites a tendon on Rodney's neck, gentle yet fierce, then sucks at the spot using lips and tongue.

"I can see I'm going to have to do something with that busy mouth of yours," John murmurs against his skin. His other hand plays with the wiry hair surrounding Rodney's cock. Rodney's hips undulate, trying for more, always more, but John won't give it to him. "Quiet," John says, dipping down to possess Rodney's mouth.

The kiss lasts what seems like forever, John's tongue invading Rodney's mouth and licking teeth and palate and tongue with such fervor that Rodney's brain whites out again. He's whimpering when he regains a modicum of control, high needy sounds that he tries to stop but can't.

"You want more, don't you?" John says, voice low and confident.

"Yes. God. _John_." Rodney knows he's pleading, but he doesn't care anymore.

John's fingers brush over the head of Rodney's cock and Rodney _mewls_, he fucking mewls but oh God, every centimeter of skin is _dying_ for more sensation. Those same fingers move to Rodney's lips and he reaches for them desperately, needing to do _something_ to reciprocate this rush of feeling. John pushes his fingers into Rodney's mouth and Rodney sucks on them, runs his tongue over and around rough skin, tastes himself on John. Rodney moans, can't help moaning, pulls his cheeks in and sucks hard as John thrusts his fingers deeper.

"Oh yeah," John says. "More of that, I think," still ridiculously composed and then his fingers are gone. Rodney raises his head, seeking, blindly, and John's hips are over Rodney's chest now, his legs spread across Rodney's torso.

John inches forward, his chest filling Rodney's field of vision, his erection coming closer and closer to Rodney's mouth.

"John. _Please_," Rodney says, and he shouldn't say things like that but he has to, has to taste John, wrap his lips around John's cock and rub his tongue against the head. John groans and his hips buck forward and Rodney loves it. Loves having his mouth filled like this, tips his head to get a better angle, sucks harder and wetter, messy. John's cock moves deeper and Rodney does everything he can think of to make this better, hotter, perfect.

He runs his tongue around the line of John's circumcision scar when John pulls out and holds himself barely inside Rodney's mouth. John is talking, low words of encouragement and praise that Rodney can't make out.

Slow push forward and Rodney opens his throat, swallows around the blunt pressure that makes his jaw ache. John touches Rodney's mouth, pushes a finger inside the corner next to his cock, then draws the wetness down Rodney's cheek. John cups Rodney's jaw in one big hand and starts to thrust faster, a rhythm so perfect that all Rodney can do is endure. He pulls his cheeks in, sucks as much as he can, glories in the feel of John's cock hitting the back of his throat.

John is cursing above Rodney's head, hips stuttering now, close to climax. Rodney can taste him, salty and bitter on the back of his tongue and he swallows again and again until John shudders and the rush of his come floods Rodney's mouth. John's hips jerk a few more times and then he holds still inside Rodney. Rodney's jaw begins to _hurt_ just before John pulls out and collapses next to him.

 

* * * 

_Sudden rush of panic as the missile hit the jumper and Sheppard shouted they were going down. _

Rodney knew they wouldn't make it back to Atlantis.

 

* * * 

Air rushes in and out of Rodney's lungs, and he can feel sweat everywhere on his body, dripping down and soaking the sheets. His legs twitch a little, and John's thigh moves over to keep them still. One of John's hands reaches up to caress Rodney's temples, run over his closed eyelids.

"Rodney," John says. "Are you okay?" His voice is slurred, and Rodney feels a kiss pressed against the corner of his mouth. He coughs, just a little, and nods.

He is more than okay. He thrums with arousal and anticipation and wants to know what's going to happen next.

John kisses him full on the mouth now, opening Rodney's jaw again and rubbing their tongues together. John pulls back and Rodney can feel himself reaching, straining. He wants more.

"You are so incredible," John says, and Rodney feels a thrill of something nameless.

A hand runs down Rodney's chest, dallying at his sternum and belly button while John's other hand spider walks fingers up the delicate skin above Rodney's armpit. Rodney's hands are always in motion, always pointing or gesturing or typing or repairing, but now they're held motionless. He shudders when John touches the inside of his elbow just as his other hand grips Rodney's still hard dick. At last, at last and Rodney's hips want to move but John's leg over Rodney's thighs holds him still.

Another kiss, then John retreats. He isn't moving his hands anymore and Rodney can't help the way his ass clenches and releases, the way his hips try to roll up and down and get more sensation.

"What do you want?" John asks and Rodney doesn't have an answer. John's palm tightens around Rodney's cock and Rodney groans, immediately. "This?" John says, rubbing up and down with an experimental flair. "Or this?" And now his mouth is on the tip of Rodney's cock, warm and wet and "_yes_," Rodney gasps. "Please."

Rodney can feel the curl of John's lips before his head lowers. John moves so that Rodney's legs open, exposes him once again to the cool air of the room and John's fingers are cupped around Rodney's balls and his mouth sucks and Rodney pushes up, gratefully. Deeper into John's mouth, tight and hot and Rodney wants to bury his fingers in John's hair and hold him still for Rodney to thrust up and up and up but his hands aren't going anywhere. The leather bites deeper into Rodney's wrists and the sting travels like a thousand zaps of electricity up his arms.

Tingling and overloaded nerves and Rodney rubs his foot over the curve of John's ass, desperate to touch. John's head rises up and Rodney mutters, "No no no," but he's too far gone to look and see why John's stopped. The answer becomes apparent almost immediately, because Rodney feels John's wet fingers searching behind his balls, traveling down the line of his ass until they press against his opening.

"Yes," Rodney says and John pushes inwards as his mouth devours Rodney's cock again. Rodney can hear himself making involuntary noises, whining and whimpering, but none of that matters when John hits that perfect spot inside him. Stars burst in front of his eyes and his hips are moving, independent of thought or conscious direction. Heat and wet and suction on his dick, stretched and invaded in his ass and this is _perfect_.

It seems to lasts forever, tongue lapping at the head of Rodney's cock as John's fingers press against his prostate, lips stretched wide so that Rodney hits the back of John's throat as his fingers pull out. Tormenting, tantalizing, and it goes on and on and on, sensation shivering all over Rodney's body until he feels a rush at the base of his spine and he's coming, coming harder than he has in his _life_. John thrusts his fingers into Rodney's ass again, sucks harder with his mouth, swallows every drop of Rodney's release and Rodney is sobbing, gasping, his head thrashing from side to side, a long, low moan escaping.

When it ends, Rodney goes limp. Boneless. He can't move, can't speak, can't do anything but luxuriate in the aftershocks shivering through every muscle and tendon and nerve he possesses.

 

* * * 

_The jumper flew smooth and true, it may as well have been motionless from what Rodney could feel. The sky ahead was bright blue and clear and they'd be back in Atlantis in a few minutes and everything would be well._

 

* * * 

Rodney returns to awareness with John wrapped around him. His arms are free. John is stroking Rodney's wrists, pressing kisses onto red marks. Rodney doesn't know if they're from the past hour's binding or from the island. He doesn't care. He moves his hands, clumsy and stiff, and pulls John closer, kisses him deep.

John rushes on top of Rodney, covers him like a blanket. They keep kissing and John touches Rodney everywhere, gentle and soothing now. Finally, they subside, and John rolls onto his back, pillowing Rodney's head on his shoulder. John's arm wraps around Rodney and positions him so that not even a sheet of paper could get between them.

Rodney breathes, in and out, for several long minutes as he tries to get his brain to reboot.

"Well," he says at last. "That was different."

John starts to laugh. Rodney swipes at him with a hand, not quite a smack and John is suddenly serious. "Bad different?" he asks, and his eyes are anxious.

It's Rodney's turn to laugh now. "No, not bad." He shivers a little, pleasure too close to be easily forgotten. "Just … unexpected."

"Yeah," John says. "For me too," and his eyes veil over.

"Hey," Rodney says. He pauses, and searches for the right words. "I hadn't realized," he continues carefully, "that you were so worried back there."

John snorts and lifts his head to kiss Rodney's temple. "You could say that. You could say I was close to panic." Rodney tangles his fingers into John's chest hair and feels the reassuring beat of his heart. "I don't like to panic," John states with finality.

"I guess not," Rodney says, and snickers. He's ridden the edge of panic almost every day he's lived in Atlantis. Panic and Rodney are old friends.

"You didn't see Ronon," John says, almost apologetically. "He was about to go berserker. I didn't," and John stops for a second and strokes his palm down Rodney's forearm, "I had to keep him under control."

John presses another kiss onto Rodney's forehead. "Plus, I knew you'd be able to do it."

Rodney nestles closer. "Oh yes, of course. I'm Super Scientist after all."

"Good thing, too, since General Zod back there was ready to kill us all." A fine trembling shivers over John's skin and Rodney realizes, like the sun breaking over the ocean, that John had been scared. Really scared.

"We got through it," Rodney says. He tries to put conviction behind his next statement: "We'll always get through it."

 

* * * 

_Smug face of the Magistrate explaining the perfection of his prison system, eyes wide and smile broad._

 

* * * 

They lie tangled together for a long time, stroking bare skin and petting and sharing nuzzling kisses. Rodney knows he should leave, should return to his own quarters for the rest of the night, slip through corridors looking innocent, but he can't bring himself to stop touching John. They exchange lazy comments, and Rodney manages to make John giggle when he runs his fingers up and down John's ribs. Laughter is so much better than fear.

"Also," Rodney can't let this one go, "_A few cannons are no match for the kind of firepower they'll be bringing with them_? Why were you channeling Darth Vader?"

John rears back, looks offended. "Hey. You're the one who's always quoting Star Trek at me. Don't knock Darth Vader."

"I'll knock you," Rodney mutters and smiles into John's mouth before kissing him again.

 

* * * 

_Every time they dial the stargate, they leave on an adventure to uncharted territories. So long as Sheppard and Ronon and Teyla will be there beside him, Rodney will be glad to explore. _

Even when they find dragons.

 

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> My first try at a story for atlantisbasics, per sian1359's request of "prison islands and bondage". God, I loved Condemned. My thanks to mswalter, serialkarma, and hetrez for their beta efforts.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Stargate: Atlantis do not belong to me, and this story was written for love, not profit.
> 
>  
> 
> Feedback is not better than sex, but it's pretty close. And always welcome.


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